What’s that, Halloween? Inventory thirty boxes of costumes and give your boyfriend an allergy attack from the ensuing dust storm? Do full makeup and prosthetics for two dozen drooling zombies? Carve a hundred pumpkins? Just say the word. I love my haunterly lifestyle, but my god does it make me its bitch.
This season inspires me like no other, though. Because of how excited I get, more than one person in my life has actually assumed my birthday is in October. (It’s in May, for the record.) All this glitzy, witchy, delightfully eccentric energy comes bubbling to the surface and lights a fire under my feet. Around Halloween I wake up in the middle of the night to scribble ideas on my forearm because god forbid I lose them. I’ve picked up more hours at work, as well as a second job modeling for an art class. And I have about a zillion outfit post ideas. I figure I might as well indulge this burst: I’m already resigned to not sleeping until November. In for a penny, in for a pound.
And as far as creative bursts go, lately I’ve moved pretty far from straight-up outfit posts. Not that I don’t wear the ensembles I post here, but I post only a fraction of what I wear day to day. Only if it’s tightly thematic and worthy of commentary more interesting than “I really like this dress”. I’m trying to refine my aesthetic as a costume designer, and I post only things I consider cohesive or socially charged enough to actually say something about costumery. I do very much enjoy blogs that focus on pretty clothes with little to no commentary. That’s their niche, and they fill it well. But I want to fit more along Arabella‘s lines: awesome fashion that means something.
So today I’m continuing a theme I started months ago with my Morgaine le Fay costume. Famous witches from throughout history. My original theme was “badass women”, but let’s face it: that means “witches” as far as I’m concerned. Today in emulation is G(a)linda, from my favorite book and one of my favorite musicals.
Glinda and Elphaba are my favorite literary duo. Reading awkward sexual tension into their every interaction is literally the best thing. I didn’t want to straight-up copy either of them for my costume series, so I went thematic instead. In honor of their ambiguously bounded friendship, my Glinda borrows elements from Elphie: the shoes, the relative simplicity of the dress, and the bloodstains. While Elphaba isn’t the sort of witch who flaps around slashing and burning, her character has a harshness that suggests bloodiness. Or maybe I’m just really keen to see bloodiness everywhere.
Getting meta here. Also, I seriously recommend Wicked: the Grimmerie to anyone interested in the making of the musical. So many of my favorite artists have been involved with that show: Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, Susan Hilferty, Idina Menzel, Kristin Chenoweth. It’s worth buying the book for Susan Hilferty’s costumes alone.
Dress & Shoes: Old Gold Belt: Goodwill Tights: Gifted Bow: Spirit Halloween